


Something Steamy This Way Comes

by RainbowMatildas



Category: Thomas the Tank Engine & Friends
Genre: Chauvinism, Discrimination, Don't Like Don't Read, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, My First Work in This Fandom, Please Kill Me, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-11
Updated: 2016-11-11
Packaged: 2018-08-30 10:09:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8528995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainbowMatildas/pseuds/RainbowMatildas
Summary: My friend and I had to write a story for English class using 20 vocabulary words. It turned into the most beautiful shitpost I've ever seen. I've never even watched Thomas & Friends. PURELY A JOKE PLS I SWEAR IM A GOOD WRITER IRL





	

**Author's Note:**

> If you clicked on this... why?

“But Thomas! How can you betray your fellow steamies like this? Diesels can be devious!” Percy said with a dour expression, smoke puffing from his smokestacks  
“Why, Percy,” Thomas said, a little bit hurt. “I balk at the idea of judging someone just by the way they produce energy sources! Don’t try to cajole me into abandoning my newfound friends!” He was worried about this dogmatic prejudice in the steam works. Surely this copious amount of jingoism would soon cause a fiasco!  
“If you go see the diesels one more time, I’m telling the fat conductor! He’ll never condone such bacchanalian behavior,” Percy threatened.  
“No!” Thomas screamed. “Not the _fat conductor!_ ” Percy shifted into reverse and snuck away with a creepy expression. Thomas was suddenly struck with a brilliant plan, the opus of his short, meaningless existence. He somehow used his armless motor skills to pull out a pair of fake glasses, then put them on. “I’m a genius!” He cried. This disguise will keep him incognito.  
As he chugged along the train tracks, he thought about his friend Percy. _He shouldn’t have butted in like that and harried me,_ Thomas thought. _How officious of him._ Some of the steamier trains saw the diesels as a sort of cult (6), just a group of trains lazing about in lethargy. Their métier as trains was to work, but the diesels enjoyed spending time in the darkness. If the steamies wouldn’t ostracize them so much, maybe the two sects of trains could collaborate and please their master, the fat conductor.  
Thomas arrived at the diesel’s home. It was a little insipid (1), all dark and dreary, but it evoked a sense of mystery and – dare he say it – deviousness. Suddenly, his old pal Salty crept closer out of the darkness.  
“Oh, hey, stranger,” he purred in his strident tone. “Whatcha up to?”  
Thomas realized he was still wearing his disguise and pulled the glasses off with a flourish. “Surprise, Salty! It’s me, your old friend, Thomas the Tank Engine! I came to hang out with y’all diesels.”  
“Oh, come in, then! Diesel 10 will be so glad to see you,” Salty said, leading him inside.  
All the diesels smiled and greeted Thomas. It was inexorable to notice the nuance in the diesel works. Someone had dusted.  
“Wow, guys! You really fixed this old place up,” Thomas said, peering around. “It’s rather droll if I do say so myself!”  
Diesel 10 wasn’t smiling, though. “Thomas,” he said, close to tears. “How good of you to come.”  
Thomas frowned. “D-Diesel 10… whatever could be wrong in such a quaint home?”  
Diesel 10 sighed heavily. “Oh, Thomas. I am so afraid, I must confess.”  
“But why?” Salty sounded confused. “He’s been like this all day. We can’t get a reason out of him.”  
“Thomas…” Diesel 10’s eyes were watery, and his crane gave a sad creak. “Your steamy friends… there is such hatred hearts, such prejudice for those different from them.”  
Thomas frowned again, deep in thought when he suddenly had an idea. (Oh, how he wished he could snap his fingers. Oh, wait…) He pulled out the fake glasses again and somehow placed them on Diesel 10’s face. “Wait, where did you go?  
Diesel 10 gave a hearty chortle. “Oh, Thomas. You are so brilliant. It is I! Diesel 10. Now with this disguise no one will know I’m a diesel.”  
Thomas found all sort of disguises so the diesels could fit in, like a tiger mask for Salty. Salty whooped with joy.  
“Whoop, whoop!” He cried.  
Thomas led them back to the steam works, where all his friends were chilling. “I’m back, everyone! And look – new pals!”  
The diesels all cleared their throats nervously.  
“Uh, hey, it’s me, D- Steamy 10,” Diesel 10 said in a high-pitched falsetto. The rest of the diesels nodded and gave fake names.  
The steamies scrutinized him before smiling widely. “Pleased to meet you!”  
They all got together and played bridge, and had a gay old time, just like Fred Flintstone always told them to.  
The fat conductor watched them play with a soft smile on his round face. Thomas chugged to his side. “Hello, sir.”  
“Thomas.” The fat conductor would not be fooled. “I am so proud of you, son. You have united our little island through friendship and incredible fashion design. Thank you so much.” A single tear rolled down his fat cheek. “Now I can die in peace, knowing my little trains will be okay.”  
Now that the prejudice had been avoided, the diesels and steamies could live together in harmony without fear of discrimination, hate, or even air pollution and fossil fuels. And Thomas would live another day.

**Author's Note:**

> If you actually read the whole thing... why?


End file.
